The Stretch Mark Club

Chapter 9: There's a First For Everything

I keep wishing Xavier’s 20-year-old self was here so I can show him how amazing he is.

Jasmine

6 Months Old…

“Da-da,” I heard Everett say from the kitchen. “Da-da,” he said again. I moseyed in, my head tilted, eying him.

“What are you doing?”

He looked at me like he’d been caught wiping crumbs between the couch cushions (I know this from experience).

“Nothing,” he said.

“You’re trying to get her to say Dada first.”

He stared blankly at me, and I shook my head.

“Unbelievable,” I said with a laugh and left the room.

***

“Look how big she’s getting” was the first thing my dad said when we met for lunch later that day. He'd called earlier that morning to tell me he would be in town. I hadn’t seen him since the big blowout with my mom, and he missed me. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much I missed him too, reminding me that not only had he not seen me, he’d been missing some of the most important moments of Zoe’s life.

“It’s grandpa,” I whispered in Zoe’s ear and pointed to my dad. She looked at him and smiled before she buried her face in my shoulder. That made him laugh, and the tension disappeared just like that.

“How are you?” Dad asked once we got a table.

“Great,” I said.

“And Everett?”

“Good. Working a lot.”

“I bet he is. He has a family to take care of now,” he said, solemnly--almost proudly. “You did good with that one, kiddo.”

I smiled. “I know.”

“So how’s the little one?” he asked, and we spent the rest of our lunch talking about Zoe. I told him everything that had been going on--about Zoe’s weight and my breastfeeding problems and our little bed mishap. Like Everett, he simply laughed and said, “We all go through it, Princess, and look...you turned out just fine.” It was so easy to talk to my dad. I hated how often I forgot that.

“Everett is trying to get her to say Dada first,” I told him.

“Oh, really?” he said with a laugh.

He looked at Zoe sitting in her high chair, smacking the table in front of her with both her hands spread wide. Dad leaned in closer to her face.

“Gram-pa,” he said. “Gram-pa.”

Zoe looked at him for a moment, then went back to smacking her hands on the table and reaching for the napkin. I laughed.

“Sorry. That’s about the same response Everett got.”

“She’ll say it when she’s ready, and I can promise you this, it won’t be because of any goading from any of us. And she’s a free spirit, this one. Her first word will probably be ‘elephant’ just to prove a point.”

When our laughter faded, it got really quiet, and I felt like I knew what was coming next.

“Your mom wants to see you,” Dad said, not looking at me because he knew I didn’t want to hear it. But he loved my mom and he loved me, so he said it anyway.

“Great. We’d love to see her,” I said. “As soon as she apologizes.” The callousness of my own voice startled me. It was like something had clicked in the overly-polite side of my brain and I couldn’t go back, no matter how much easier it would be.